


Go With Your First Impulse

by Telaryn



Category: Leverage
Genre: Attraction, Bad Jokes, Ballroom Dancing, Competence Kink, Dancing, Embarrassment, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Jokes About Murder and Suicide, Kissing, No cheating, Realization, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 22:31:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5945707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sophie calls an audible, the team scrambles to compensate.  Nate and Parker are thrown together in a situation that sparks an unexpected attraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go With Your First Impulse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mizzy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizzy/gifts).



> CERTIFIED 100% PRIEST-SMUT FREE!
> 
> Seriously - we do enough of these and I might end up shipping these two myself! Once again, m'dear, a pleasure to have you play with us. I hope you enjoy your gift.

He was going to kill Sophie. Or Hardison. Or Eliot – or hell, whichever one of them it was that brought them this stupid client in the first place.

Wait.

That was him.

Okay – no revenge killings. Even though suicide might turn out to be a preferable alternative than navigating a black-tie function with _Parker_ on his arm.

It was supposed to have been Sophie. This was the kind of game she _lived_ for – beautiful people, glittering clothes, expensive jewels, and more power and influence than you could probably find in the United Nations General Assembly. All the wishes in the world, however, couldn’t erase an accident that – for reasons he still didn’t quite understand – had trapped her on the highway with no hope of reaching them in time for Nate to make his entrance.

Maybe he should have just killed everybody. Then himself.

They moved another two places closer to the receiving line, and Nate risked a glance at Parker. She certainly looked the part – Sophie’s gown fit as though it had been crafted for her, and the jewelry she wore to accent the look fairly glowed against her skin. He would have thought there had been no time to properly do her hair, but between them Eliot and Hardison had crafted a fair imitation of one of those purposefully casual updos that seemed to be all the rage these days.

He could see similar styles on other women as they moved through the receiving line.

“You’re staring.” Parker’s whispered accusation was so quiet that he heard it more in his comm than anywhere else. “Why are you staring?”

White noise filled his brain, until all Nate could do was speak the truth. “You look beautiful.”

The amount of tension that seemed to drain out of Parker on hearing that was almost tangible, but in the next heartbeat they’d reached the first stop in the receiving line and it was time for Nate to take the lead again. _Ambassador, industrialist, industrialist, war lord, government leader, duke, count, duke…and we’re clear._

“I need a drink,” Parker muttered as they moved together into the ballroom. “Can I have a drink?”

Nate was in complete agreement, already searching the room for the closest bar, when Eliot said, _“You still have to talk me through this safe crack. I’m not putting my freedom in your hands if you’re not going to…”_

“Please,” Parker snorted as Nate changed direction – taking them both out on the dance floor. “I could crack that safe in my sleep.” 

“You’re not him,” Nate reprimanded her gently. Taking her in his arms, he moved them both smoothly into a waltz. “Follow my lead,” he said firmly, maintaining eye contact. “We’ll draw less attention if we’re dancing.” 

The thief’s blue eyes had gone wide – shining with fear. “I don’t know how to dance.” 

Nate managed to refrain from pointing out that was precisely what they were doing. Instead he told her, “Focus on Eliot. I’ll handle the dancing part – just don’t fight me.” 

It took her a couple of bars of the song, but gradually Parker relaxed, trusting him to guide her through the familiar pattern of steps. Her natural grace served them well; Nate was eventually able to submerge himself entirely in making sure that neither of them looked out of place. 

He had loved to dance, once upon a time, and thanks to a mother who had insisted on him being raised to her idea of what a gentleman should know, he’d been pretty good at it. In his early days of courting Maggie they’d gone dancing often. His body remembered the feel of her in his arms as he moved Parker seamlessly around the floor. 

The thief tensed briefly. “No – that’s a decoy,” she murmured. “Look to your left.” 

She was good. Remotely cracking a high end safe that she’d never actually seen, not giving a hint in her tone or demeanor that she was anything but a lovely piece of ‘arm candy’, as the saying went. The song they were dancing to ended. Nate paused, listening for the first few bars of the next selection and trying to decide if it was worth staying on the dance floor a little longer, or retreating to a shadowy corner for the duration of Eliot’s safecracking adventure. 

_Foxtrot…_ It had been years, but ultimately Nate decided that if he took them back to the edge of the floor, he could make a reasonable go of it. Parker was proving to be an excellent dance partner – her body moving instinctively in time with his. 

Smart, beautiful…it was a little terrifying to consider a Parker fully grown into everything she was capable of. Nate tightened his hold on Parker’s waist – it was a slow foxtrot, but the dance itself was inherently faster than the waltz they’d just finished. Parker made a small sound as she moved in closer to him, and Nate’s breath caught in his throat. 

“That’s it,” she said abruptly, her entire face aglow with happiness. “You should be clear to get the formula.” Her responsibilities to the team over, Parker focused entirely on Nate. 

“You were…amazing,” he said, letting her see how deeply he meant it. He started to slow their steps, but Parker shook her head – and suddenly _she_ was tightening her hold on _him_. 

“It feels like we’re flying,” she said, her voice breathless, with a touch of the wild in her expression. “Show me how it works.” 

Feeling like he’d just slugged a shot of strong Irish whiskey, Nate swallowed hard. “All right.” Maintaining eye contact with her, he plunged them both back into the rhythm and the steps. “It’s about trust more than anything else,” he said, backing her into a turn. “You can’t have two leaders in a dance – everything falls apart.” 

“Could I lead you?” Parker asked. _God, why had he never realized how blue her eyes were?_ “Or is this a man thing?” 

Smiling, he guided her into a twirl, then pulled her back. “Traditionally men lead, but not always. If you knew the steps better than me, I would follow your lead.” 

"I want to learn how to dance,” Parker said. “Will you teach me?” 

“Absolutely!” he agreed, without hesitation. “It’s a useful skill for anyone to have – especially if we end up in a situation like this again.” 

_Soul-gazing…_ Sophie had mentioned the phenomenon once. It referred to two people gazing deeply into each other’s eyes for a prolonged period of time. _”Even two minutes can create real feelings of love.”_ The memory caught him off guard, making him fumble the last couple of steps as the orchestra brought the music to a close. “Sorry,” he told her, impulsively bringing her hand up to his lips and kissing it. “I think I need that drink now.” 

She nodded. “Thank you.” A heartbeat later, she was pressed into him, kissing him for all he was worth. Nate staggered back a step before catching both of them and kissing her back. 

Pulling away from Parker’s impulsive move would have brought them the wrong kind of attention. Nate clung desperately to the rationalization as a scatter of light applause surrounded them. Parker tensed, realizing they were suddenly the focus of a lot more attention than either of them really wanted. Keeping her close, Nate nodded and smiled at their sudden admirers, and moved them both in the direction of the nearest bar as soon as possible. 

“I’m sorry,” Parker murmured, her tone abruptly miserable. “I’m so sorry, Nate.” 

“Whiskey,” Nate told the bartender, holding up two fingers. When the man had acknowledged his request, the mastermind took Parker by the shoulders. “Parker – look at me.” 

“You were brilliant,” he told her, once he had her full attention again. “You have nothing to apologize for, do you hear me? Nothing.” 

_Two minutes…real love…_ This close, even as she nodded at him and tried to pull herself back together, _knowing_ that Parker kissing him had been pure impulse, meaning nothing serious, Nate was overwhelmed with how much he suddenly wanted to kiss her again. 

Suicide. Clearly the only reasonable choice he had left. 


End file.
